


McCord

by NebraskaWildfire



Series: Red [14]
Category: Alias Smith and Jones
Genre: Post Amnesty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-18 00:37:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21502411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NebraskaWildfire/pseuds/NebraskaWildfire
Summary: Heyes learns there is another way to protect his family.
Series: Red [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1500626
Comments: 4
Kudos: 6





	McCord

Angus McCord was the last person Hannibal Heyes expected to see in the saloon in Centennial. Perhaps not the very last person, but a chill went down his spine. There was no good reason for McCord to be in the new hometown of the two formerly most notorious outlaws in the history of the West.

McCord had caught Heyes’ eye, as if he had been sitting at that poker table, just waiting for him or the Kid to walk in.

Heyes broke eye contact and casually strolled to the bar, intending to get a beer, and wait for his partner to arrive, which was his original reason for entering the saloon. They had come to town to complete some needed errands, and had planned to have a beer or two, and maybe play a game or two of poker before they returned to the ranch.

He scrubbed his face, while he waited for Ed, the bartender, to finish with one of the other local ranchers at the far end of the bar. Heyes hazarded a glance at McCord, and was rewarded with an intense stare back, and a slowly spreading smile. This worried him even further.

“Why Mr. Heyes,” Ed smiled as he poured the beer. “How are you doing today?”

“Good, as ever, Ed,” Heyes returned the smile. “Got the best wife in the world.”

“Mr. Curry might disagree with you,” Ed laughed. “Heck, I better or my Martha will tan my hide.”

Heyes smiled wider, and nodded. “Ain’t that the truth, Ed. Luckily we all have wonderful wives.”

Ed shook his head, but then nodded. He started to go back to washing his glasses, but Heyes nodded towards the poker game.

“The new guy over there, with the red hair, he been here long?”

“Came in yesterday,” Ed paused. “Was asking about you and the Kid. Seemed to know you.” Ed did not look happy.

Heyes sighed. “Can’t say as he’s a friend, but yeah, we know him.”

“Glad to know he ain’t a friend exactly,” Ed replied. “Not the type we’d want around Centennial.” He smiled again at Heyes. “We’re kind of particular.”

“So I’ve heard, Ed.” Heyes smiled back, but then looked over towards McCord. “Old Angus probably won’t cause problems, for the town, but I best go see why he’s here.” Heyes took a deep drink of his beer, and was about to head over to the poker table, when he looked over to see who was entering the batwing doors. Old habits die hard, but this time he relaxed, just a bit.

Jedediah “Kid” Curry came strolling in with the mayor. They had been discussing plans for a new school, but again old habits die hard. Curry had done an automatic sweep of the saloon, looking for threats. He acknowledged Heyes at the bar with a nod of his head, while continuing to listen to the Mayor. He also immediately came alert, after seeing the look in Heyes’ eyes, and glanced over towards the poker table. His eyes became still when he saw McCord.

“Here Mayor, let me buy you a drink,” Curry said affably, steering the mayor towards the bar and away from the stranger at the poker table.

“Well, it’s a bit early for me,” Mayor Jefferson protested, but just as eagerly took the mug that Ed offered.

“You and Mr. Curry get the planning for the school all sorted out?” Ed asked, wiping down the bar. “My Martha is all excited. She’s hoping a new school might encourage Ed Junior to do better with his studies, so he don’t end up tending bar like his pa.”

“Now this is a fine, upstanding establishment, Ed,” Mayor Jefferson countered. As the bartender and the mayor continued in their conversation, Heyes excused himself and headed towards the poker table.

“You boys have an open spot?” Heyes asked with a smile that did not reach his eyes.

“For you, Heyes, always,” Charlie Summers drawled. He was another of the local ranchers, who played poker well enough to learn to enjoy playing with Hannibal Heyes. He had come up from the South after the war, but was now a fierce, loyal citizen of Wyoming, as most of the locals were.

“Why, if it ain’t Angus McCord?” Heyes’ smile was brittle, but he extended his hand out to McCord, who had no choice but to shake it.

“Been a long time, Heyes,” McCord answered, warily looking from him, and then over to Curry. “See you got the Kid with you.”

“As always, McCord.” Heyes’ eyes took on a hard sheen, but then he visibly relaxed, and smiled at the other players. “But enough talkin’. I’m ready to play.”

A collective breath came from the other players, and Billy, one of the hands from the livery stable, laughed briefly. “Sounds good, Heyes.” As the townsfolk had found out, it was always interesting playing poker with Hannibal Heyes, and not always in the same way.

The game proceeded quietly enough for several hands. Eventually Billy had to leave for his shift at the livery and the Kid sat down to join them.

“Right nice to see you, too, Kid,” McCord smiled widely at Curry, who did not smile back.

“What brings you to town, McCord?” the Kid asked.

“Come to visit with you two.” Angus McCord’s eyes danced. “Got some business to discuss.”

Ears pricked up around the table, as everyone was wondering exactly how Angus McCord knew Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry. A few drifters came through town occasionally, asking for the former leaders of the Devil’s Hole gang. Most were harmless, like the pair that usually looked a bit worse for the wear, a tall, stocky man with a mustache who was always accompanied by a shorter, slighter dishwater blonde, who enjoyed his chew a bit too much. 

Some of these individuals wandered back out of town after a glimpse of the sheriff. Some left after a word from Heyes or the Kid. Some were simply men who had wanted to meet the famous former outlaws. 

It was usually those who had a rough look and wore tied down guns that worried the townsfolk, but not always. Wheat and Kyle, as many had learned were the names of the duo who had visited more than once, seemed harmless enough, even with their six guns always visible. Angus McCord did not wear his gun tied low, but stuffed in his jacket pocket. It had been visible a few times as he shifted during the poker game, but it did not seem to occur to him that it might bother some of the other players.

At the table, it was only Heyes and Curry who wore their guns tied down. Some old habits die hard. The townsfolk had chosen to ignore this habit of the boys, figuring they might still need those guns, depending on who exactly did come through town.

Eventually, the rest of the players drifted away to other pursuits, after no interesting conversation had occurred between the boys and this new stranger in town. When it was just Heyes, Curry, and McCord at the table, Heyes signaled Ed to bring out a bottle and three glasses. After an initial shot, Heyes set down his glass and looked at McCord.

“So, why are you here?” Heyes’ eyes were hard.

“No, it’s great to see you? Come on out to the house?” McCord laughed softly. Then his gaze turned towards Curry. “What about you, Kid? Not even a hello?”

“You caused us some problems earlier.” The Kid’s eyes were glacial.

McCord’s laugh was louder this time, attracting some attention from Ed, who looked over briefly, until he met the Kid’s gaze. Then he became very busy cleaning glasses.

“You could have knocked me over with a feather, when I saw you kiss Red Johnson, there at the train station, in San Francisco.” McCord shook his head, but continued to smile, looking over towards Curry. “Now if he had kissed you…”

Instinctually the Kid’s right arm started to move until Heyes grabbed it. 

“That’s all past history.” Heyes’ voice was low and harsh. “Tell me why you are here now.”

“Did you know, Heyes, that Daniel Ralston was going to give me ten thousand dollars, when your wife was arrested?” McCord’s eyes glittered.

Heyes took his hand away from the Kid, who settled into an all too familiar stance.

“Is that why you’ve come here then?” Heyes laugh was dry, and scary. “You’re into blackmail now?”

“You know, that was my first thought,” McCord was not fazed by the dark looks from either of the former outlaws. “But I came up with a better idea.”

“What?” Heyes’ voice sharpened further.

“I want you to teach me to open a Pierce and Hamilton 1878.” McCord’s smile became a bit sharp itself.

“Can’t do it,” Heyes shook his head. “It would jeopardize our amnesty.”

“No, Heyes, I don’t want you to come with me,” McCord shook his head. “I just want you to tell me how.”

Heyes was silent for a moment.

“You do know how dangerous it is,” Curry interjected. “It’s one of the reasons we left the business. I figured eventually Heyes would blow us both up.”

McCord shook his head. “Obviously, not, since you did it more than once.”

“Not by choice,” Heyes replied.

“Not by either of our choices,” the Kid reiterated.

“But you still did.” McCord insisted. “Knowing you, Heyes, you had to have it figured out perfectly.”

Heyes paused again, but then nodded. “Yes, had to, or we would have indeed blown up.” He smiled briefly at the Kid, but then focused back on McCord. “You just want a supply list?”

“And detailed instructions.” McCord’s face was covered by a gleaming smile.

“If I give you what you want, what guarantee do I have that you won’t be back here again?” Heyes asked.

“You don’t,” McCord said shortly. “But at least I’ll leave for now.”

Heyes was still for so long, it appeared he wasn’t going to answer. Then he nodded.

“Heyes, you sure about this?” The Kid looked towards him.

“Don’t appear to have much of a choice, do I?” A brief smile crossed his face, but his eyes were hard.

“No, you don’t,” McCord laughed dryly.

“I have one condition.” Heyes captured McCord’s gaze.

“You aren’t in much of a position to bargain, Heyes.” McCord’s voice hardened.

“It’s the only way I’ll do this,” Heyes stated.

“Well, what is it?” McCord sounded impatient.

“I’ll dictate the steps, but you have to write them down.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want any evidence that I gave you this information.”

“Heyes, I always heard you were a cautious SOB,” McCord shook his head. “Sure, you tell me, and I’ll write it down.” He pulled out a notebook and pencil. “Ready?”

Heyes scrubbed his face and sighed.

“Always.”

“Here, let me double-check what you wrote down,” Heyes reached for the notebook, but McCord hesitated. “Don’t want you to you blow yourself up,” he said harshly. “Be bad for my reputation.” His hand was still out. Eventually McCord handed over the book.

“Uh huh, uh huh,” Heyes read down the list. “Oh, see here,” he pointed to the amount of nitro needed. “You wrote down too much.” Heyes smiled at McCord, but there was something in his eyes that seemed to bother the other man. “Hand me your pencil and I’ll fix it.” Again, Heyes held out his hand. He crossed out and corrected the figure, and then snapped the book shut, giving it back to McCord. There was a brilliantly sharp smile on Heyes’ face.

McCord opened the notebook to the instructions. “No, I’m certain I wrote down exactly what you told me.” He looked up at Heyes. “You trying to change something so this doesn’t work?”

“Wouldn’t I have increased the amount if I wanted to give you wrong information?” Heyes said blandly.

McCord looked down now, uncertainty on his face.

“I told you, McCord, this scheme of Heyes’ always made me worry.” The Kid shook his head. “I know he’s smart but there’s always a first time.”

McCord glared at the partners. “If this doesn’t blow the safe, I’ll be back.” He smiled harshly. “With Wheeler and Ralston.”

“It’ll work,” Heyes assured him. “Just follow what I corrected.”

McCord put away the book. “I certainly will, Heyes.”

Curry and Heyes were on their way back to the ranch, after seeing McCord off on the four o’clock train. It had been a quiet ride.

“The amount you told him at first was wrong,” the Kid said, looking over at the person he trusted the most in the world.

“No, Kid,” Heyes paused, and then looked Curry in the eye. “He wrote it down wrong.”

The Kid looked away, but shook his head. “No, I remember what you told him.” He caught Heyes’ eyes again. “I do listen to you, you know.”

Heyes just kept his gaze for a moment and then looked off into the hills approaching their home. “Well, he has it right now.”

“And that amount is the only thing written in your hand.” The Kid continued to look at his cousin, but then looked down the road when he did not receive a return glance.

“When did you ever get so smart, Kid?” Heyes laughed dryly.

“Always been this smart, Heyes. Couldn’t have kept up with you otherwise.”

Heyes just nodded.

They rode quietly for a while longer.

“You thought that was necessary?” the Kid finally asked.

“Yes.” It was quiet for a few minutes, but Heyes finally had to respond. “He’d just be back, Kid. One way or another, he’d come back.”

“We ever gonna be able to live a normal life?” the Kid asked shaking his head.

Heyes looked off into the setting sun. “I seriously doubt it, Kid, but I’m trying my best to keep us all safe.”

They paused at the rise before the valley leading into the ranch, relishing all the activity they could see below.

“Me too, Heyes.”

It was almost two months later, when Heyes read the article in the Cheyenne newspaper. It was the first known catastrophic failure of a Pierce and Hamilton 1878. There were theories that either the safecracker had used an excessive amount of nitroglycerin or the seals on the safe had failed. The ‘78s were getting older, so even with the sealing putty used, remnants of which were found in the rubble, excess nitro may have leaked out.

Of the actual safecracker, there were also a few remnants. An engraved watch had been flung out of the window at the time of the blast, or his identity might never had been determined. Angus McCord was known to quite a few lawmen across the West, many who were surprised that he had attempted a P&H ’78, even as long as they had been in use.

The identification of the thief did silence those that had insisted it had to be one of the remaining members of the Devil’s Hole gang, if not Hannibal Heyes himself coming out of retirement. Others had scoffed at this, saying if it were Heyes, he would not have blown himself up, as McCord had.

After Heyes had finished reading the article twice, he folded the newspaper and slipped it under a stack of books in their library. The Kid had read it before he had given it to Heyes. He had given Heyes a stoic look as he handed him the paper. So many words had silently passed between them in that instant.

Heyes had wandered out onto the back porch of their home, looking over the peaceful hills. It was there that Red found him. Little Jed had gone down for a nap, so she came to see how her other boy was doing. She came to his side, and put her arm around his waist. He started, as if just realizing she was there. It was not a reaction she had ever seen from him before. He was usually hypersensitive to his surroundings.

“It wasn’t your fault.” Red stared out at the darkening hills.

Heyes turned to look at her.

“Bessie told me that McCord had been in town but had left after a talk with you and the Kid.”

He turned to embrace her, gathering her into his arms. “Are you so certain?”

“Did you give him the correct instructions?”

“Yes, but,” he started.

She shook her head, placing her hand on his cheek.

“I played with his mind.”

She laughed harshly. “Hannibal Heyes, if you are going to blame yourself for every idiot who you could out think...”

“No,” Heyes resolutely shook his head. “I purposely played with the amount of nitroglycerin I told him. And I didn’t mention that the seals might be drying out by now.”

“Did he ask?”

“He wouldn’t know to ask.” Heyes tried to pull away from her arms, but she wouldn’t let him. “I purposely did not tell him.” He looked out into the hills. “I wanted him gone, away from you, and Jedediah, and the Kid and Bessie, and their child.”

She folded herself into his arms. “You should have let me deal with him.”

Heyes did finally relax a bit and laughed. 


End file.
